Thursday, 18 February 2016


As you know, I have been struggling a bit lately with motivation when it comes to dealing with my vaginismus.  Tonight, I sat about watching TV and eating a cake, trying to muster up the enthusiasm to go and get down with the dilators.  I did it... Eventually.  It was quite painful.  SCORE.

If I'm honest, I felt a bit sorry for myself.  I couldn't help thinking how BORED I am of the whole situation.  I would like vaginismus to be gone now, please.  But unfortunately the only way for this to go away is for me to keep motivated.  It's a cycle of pain, lube, frustration and dilators.  Not necessarily in that order...

But, this is not a 'pity-me-and-my-shit-vagina' kinda blog.

Instead, I'm going to get all motivational about trying to stop this crap happening to other women.  This, my friends, is my VAGI-FESTO.


How do we do it?  How do we stop women from ending up in the same, sorry state that I am in now?


This is a no brainer.  If a woman is taught where her vagina is, how it operates and what it's for, this is 100% going to improve her chances of not getting vaginismus*

*Not actual science. Just my guess.


Another no-brainer.  It is not OK to leave school thinking that sex is dirty, and only for conceiving children.  It is also not OK to be taught about sex in a Religious Education class. Sex is biology. Or Personal and Social Education. Or Home Economics.  Hey, it's bloody Mathematics, before it's Religious Education.


In my experience, nobody really knows what vaginismus is.  I had it for years before I knew how to articulate what was wrong with me.  I have heard stories of women going from medical professional to medical profession unable to get a diagnosis.  Because not even all the medical professionals know what it is.  WHAT EVEN IS THIS? And don't get me started on women who have been told by said medical professionals to 'just relax and have a glass of wine.'  NO. NOT COOL.
Wouldn't it be nice to tell someone you have vaginismus and they say 'Oh yeah my cousin has that', or 'Oh yeah, I saw the movie'...


So you finally get a diagnosis.  Hooray. But, oh dear, it's a bit embarrassing.  And a bit disgusting.  So maybe just avoid it for a few weeks, months, years because actually dealing with it involves doing a lot of things that are uncomfortable, painful and shameful.  And, let's face it, you'll probably be doing it on your own, because there's no chance at all that you're sharing this story with your friends, and therapy is really expensive... So probably better just to try and work through this in the privacy of your own home, right?
I can hardly get all preachy about this one, given my anonymous state and secrecy, but there's something wrong here...


I grew up thinking sex was a sin.  It took me a long time to realise that a woman who likes sex is not a slut.  Sex is a normal, fun, essential part of a woman's life.  I, and so many others, have been denied the ability to feel that way about it.  But hopefully, with a bit of work on this VAGI-FESTO, we'll see an end to this.

VAGI-FESTO is a work in a progress.  Feel free to send suggestions that we can add to it.

tweet! @heyvaginismus

Tuesday, 16 February 2016

Square One

My biggest fear throughout all of this crazy vaginismus journey is suddenly finding myself back at Square One.

I mean, suddenly waking up and finding that my vagina has shrivelled up, nothing will go in and I can no longer touch myself without wanting to be vomit.  This might sound dramatic, but remember, this is where I was less than six months ago.

For the last quarter of 2015, work was thin on the ground and I had endless hours to dedicate to vaginismus.  I used my dilators every day, and updated this blog a couple of times a week.  It felt like a second job, but in a very exciting and rewarding way.

Then 2016 hit- work is pouring in thick and fast and I am finding myself with barely one day off per week, and juggling four or five projects at a time.  My inbox is constantly pinging, my phone is constantly ringing, and my dilators haven't seen the light of day.

The fear of Square One though has suddenly hit, and this week I am determined to get a grip on my vagina, once again.  I used my dilators last night and was pretty disappointed that D2, which previously slid in with no problems, was sore and uncomfortable.  Yes, I got it in (eventually) but the burning, stinging vaginismus pain was ever-present and I quickly had to remove the dilator.  I didn't even attempt D3.  Sometimes it's OK to know your limits, and forcing stuff into your already nervous vagina can be a bit counter-productive.

It's quite hard not to get sad about this- but I am trying very hard not to beat myself up!  And I am going to try again tonight.  It's a process of re-training my brain and my vag and reminding them both that it's totally OK to co-operate with each other.

We've done it before.

We'll do it again.

With regards to Square One, the chances of going all the way back are so tiny.  I know that.  Because, even though I have been busy and dilating has taken a backseat, I have taken control of vaginismus.  I must not forget that!  A temporary break isn't ideal, but I am never starting from scratch.

In under six months I have:

- touched my genitals without feeling queasy
-masturbated more than I have in my entire life
- inserted a tampon
- inserted four out of five dilators, with no pain
- let my husband insert his finger
- let my husband insert a dilator
- seriously considered the possibility that soon I might be able to have penetrative sex

Not bad at all.

It's worth reminding ourselves sometimes of how far we've come.  It puts things into perspective.  TONIGHT, D3, YOU WILL GO IN MY VAGINA.  (But if you don't, it's cool... we'll try again tomorrow)...

Any tips on keeping motovated? PING THEM MY WAY!